


What the Desert Dragged In

by UzbekistanRules



Series: McReyes Week 2016 [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Getting Back Together, McReyes Week 2016, vomiting mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:10:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UzbekistanRules/pseuds/UzbekistanRules
Summary: Jesse wants answers. Jesse will get his answers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AH HA HA HA WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT RIGHT TO SMUSH THREE PROMPTS TOGETHER AND THEN BE LATE ON ALL OF THEM!?
> 
> As always, massive shoutout to [Bonebo](boneyarts.tumblr.com) for helping.

Jesse watched the mass of black in the distance, cursing it all the while; watched as it paused, shifted, stood. As if it could actually do any of those things. 

It was nothing more than a monster- and monsters couldn’t pause as if waiting, shift their torsos as if uncomfortable, stand like a human. But- if it was who the rumors made it out to be, well- then Reaper had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

The desert brat groaned, shifting the serape that clung to him like a second skin. He rolled his shoulders and stared back at the Reaper off in the distance. Too far away for anything but a shot from Deadeye, but the ghost would most likely see that coming and flee before it could be completed. Too far away to decently yell out anything. Too far away to do anything but glare at it as the day heated up around them.

Loathe as he was to do it, their game of cat and mouse would have to resume. Jesse had to have his answers, even if he had to do chase this creature though the unforgiving desert for two days. He would do absolutely anything for them, even chase down Death Himself.

The pace Jesse set for himself was swift, efficient, without being too taxing on his aging body. The last thing he wanted to do was to tire himself out in this biome- because the desert ate the incautious after all. The mass before him waited until he was slightly nearer before taking off again. No words, no shots fired. 

Just a man in black fleeing across the desert, and a gunslinger following.

Nothing to say. Nothing to be said. Jesse prayed to a god neither of them believed in that the stories weren’t true. That Gabriel Reyes- hero of the Omnic Crisis, Commander of Blackwatch, father figure to Jesse and countless other people- hadn’t been the one to set the bomb that killed him and Jack Morrison both. That he and Jack were in fact _dead_. That this Reaper was someone else, instead of who the rumors whispered he was. He prayed that his assumptions were true instead of the rumor mill for once.

\- - - - -

It was another two days before the gap finally closed between them. It had been dwindling steadily ever since Jesse had first started the chase, but now Jesse was the closest he had ever been. It seemed that the shadow was slowing down.

Good. Jesse wanted this to end. Never mind the fact that he was on his last legs himself.

Once again, the sun was remorseless. The shadow moved to cool himself in the shade of a nearby ravine, and Jesse was more than happy to follow up to a certain point. The cliffs above them could hold damn near anything- from small critters who wouldn’t do them no harm to Talon agents, waiting to ambush. This could all be a trap to get Jesse to lower his guard.

But seeing the shadow hunched over an outcropping, puking its guts out in thick, tarry strings of black, stirred something within Jesse. Pity was first and foremost- the thing was either dehydrated, starved, suffering from a heat stroke, or some combination of all three. Honestly, he hadn’t ever seen the Reaper eat or drink anything and the black covering him would only help if it was breathable.

Given the fact that Jesse had seen it pick out bullets from its armor, breathable it wasn’t.

But why choose to attack in one of the world’s harshest climates without supplies? Unless this was a trap- but if it was a trap, why even bother with the four day chase?

Peacekeeper slid out of its holster as Jesse scanned above him, looking for signs of people on the cliff face. There was nothing he could see from down here, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything up there anyway. Damn it all! Did he look and potentially lose his lead, or stay in a god-forsaken kill box?

Reyes would have shoved the wraith out of here and demanded his answers. Reyes would have caught up to Reaper long before Jesse did, refusing to be dragged along for days. Reyes would already have the answers he wanted. But Reyes was dead, leaving only his protege to pick up the pieces. There was no point in asking a dead man for advice.

Cautiously- one eye on the walls on either side of them- Jesse made his way to the hunched man, steps quiet and wary.

Honestly, he should have seen this coming.

Jesse grunted in pain as the wraith suddenly swung around with his spiked gauntlet outstretched, knocking Peacekeeper to the ground with a clatter of metal. Jesse did his best to block the strikes, but the shadow was faster, meaner, and seemed to know his every move. It wasn’t fair- but life wasn’t fair. He would just have to suck it up.

Still... didn’t mean he had to like it.

Jesse grunted and writhed against the strong arms pinning him against the cliff face, doing his damndest to break free of that impossibly firm hold, using every dirty trick Blackwatch had taught him. But the creature would not be budged. 

“Damn you... the hell do you want?” Jesse hissed. Somehow he lost his hat in the struggle and he hadn’t known about it until he looked up just slightly. He mourned the loss of that brim at the very top of his field of view. 

The shadow said nothing, just tilted its head at him. As if that wasn’t fucking cryptic! “Still mouthy as ever, McCree,” it said casually.

“Wait... You know me? Just who in the hell are you?”

“Before I answer that- who do you _think_ I am?” The shadow didn’t seem to grow impatient, even though Jesse was still trying to writhe out of its hold. 

“Hoping you ain’t someone who should be dead,” he finally admitted.

“There are many people who should be dead but aren’t,” Reaper shot back, bitterness finally lacing its voice. “I’ll ask you again- who do you think I am?”

Jesse paused, not wanting to say his name- out of deference to those that should be dead. But the arm on his chest and clawed hand gripping his metal wrist would not be denied. Jesse bowed his head, squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Gabriel Reyes. That’s what the rumors all say.”

“And when have you ever believed in rumors, McCree?”

“Almost never. ‘Cept for when they bounce around too much to just be rumor. Who you are under that mask... awful lotta talk. But the name that comes back the most is Gabriel Xavier Reyes.”

The mask simply tilts again. “And what do you believe?” Reaper asks quietly.

“I believe I’m about five seconds away from shoving my boot up your ass if you don’t give me a straight goddamn answer,” McCree growled. 

The Reaper simply laughed- a harsh thing that was half mockery and half intimidating. “And what would you do if I was?”

“Goddamnit-” Jesse thrashed, managed to slip himself out of the grip only to be slammed against the sandstone wall once more by two large hands. “Enough games! Explain yerself!”

“Never took you to be an impatient one McCree.” The wraith drawls. “What do you want from me?”

“I want answers!” Jesse snarled, lips pulled back to reveal his teeth. “I want to know what happened in Geneva, I want to know who you are, I want to-”

Jesse’s rant was cut short as his ribcage was rudely punched, the force of it against his bones making it hard for him to get air into his lungs.

“What you _want_ ,” the wraith hissed, “doesn’t fucking matter. It’s what everyone wants. But could you handle the truth? Could you accept it? Even if it was staring you right in the face, vaquero ingrato?”

Jesse’s blood turned to ice. No- No it couldn’t be- “... _Jefe_? How-”

“I died.” That simple statement left a hollow ache in Jesse’s chest. He hated how bitter his former boss had become. “They weren’t lying about that. It was- no. I’m starting at the end when I should be starting at the beginning. Go for that gun and I won’t hesitate to blow you away.” 

Before Jesse could register those words properly, he staggered forward. Reaper- Gabriel?- had let him go, for reasons currently unknown. Jesse rubbed his chest ruefully as the pain set in. Even through the armor and all of his clothing, he knew he’d have a nice bruise come morning. After all these years- after death, even- Gabriel was still the strongest man he knew.

“It was a setup,” Reaper said, turning away to give them both space. Jesse didn’t miss the way the smoke billowed out from his body, enveloping Peacekeeper in its inky depths. Bastard.

“Who done it?” Jesse asks, both as a way of prompting Reaper into spilling more beans and as a way to remind himself that he was actually an active participant in this conversation. Not just a kid out of his element, strung along for the ride. Not anymore.

Gabriel- Reaper?- simply snorted, the action rocking through his whole body. “Talon. Who else? They knew that they couldn't take down Overwatch from the outside- not without a hell of a lot of casualties on both sides of the equation. So they took it down from within.”

Dread lay heavy in the pit of Jesse’s stomach.

“You’re a smart kid McCree. You were there for everything except the very end of this sordid tale. How did they do it? How did Talon bring the world’s largest peacekeeping organization to its knees?”

“Blackwatch,” Jesse’s voice was nothing more than a harsh whisper.

Reaper turned to face him, brought his clawed hands together sarcastically. “Give that kid a medal. It only took him five years to figure out what the world already knew.”

Jesse bristled, going on the defensive. “Blackwatch was a tight group. Ain’t no way a Talon goon could get past you, you vetted everyone, had final say-”

“Until I didn’t.” The wraith shook his head. Though Jesse couldn’t see anything under that bone white mask, it was hard to imagine the gesture as anything but mournful. “Keep something in mind as I tell this to you kid- at the end, I lost control over everything. I could do nothing to stop my empire from coming down around me. Jack’s was crumbling too, but his was a much more subtle thing.”

Jesse made a noise in the back of his throat, a little surprised grunt. “How do ya figure that?”

“I’ve been over the records, idiota.” Even with that stupid bird mask on, Jesse could feel the intensity of that gaze. “I’ve seen the reports that hit the Strike-Commander’s desk and how they hit it. I’ve been keeping notes. What I have doesn’t add up... _until_ you bring Talon into the mix.”

Jesse watched the Reaper as he began to pace, shedding bits of himself like a snake. Peacekeeper- unfortunately- still under his lock and key. “Why the sudden influx of people who wanted to join up? Why take away all authority from all aspects of Overwatch’s operations? Why all the secrecy? Why all the rumors? Surely you remember the dirty looks your fellow agents were giving you, right?”

Jesse remembered. He remembered how the conversation stopped when he entered a room, the suspicious glares. As if he were seventeen again and moving with Blackwatch for the first time, before his place was established in the hierarchy. He frowned and moved his hand to a pocket, keeping everything slow. He pulled out the cigar case he had bought two or so years back, opened it up and pulled out one of his classic cigarillos. Certainly, it was nice to see that it wasn’t all crumpled up and nearly impossible to keep lit. A cheap little lighter followed after it so he could light the damn thing and take the edge off of his nerves.

“Was wondering that m’self, truth be told. And weren’t it curious that Overwatch was taking all sorts, and giving us the leftovers.”

“Talon plants,” Reaper said with absolute confidence. “Oh sure, maybe some of them weren’t, but by then... did it matter? Did anyone give a single flying fuck about any of us?”

Jesse had to admit that it didn’t seem like it. He rolled his neck and took a few more drags. It was nice to be doing this... even if it was _weird_ how they came together again. 

“So let’s just do ourselves both a favor and skip t’the end. Geneva?”

Reaper tsked, waggled a finger around in the air. “You’re skipping a bit. The Blackwatch Files.”

“How’d they get leaked?”

“Simple. Someone with the highest level of authority in Blackwatch put them all out on the net.”

Jesse’s jaw dropped, damn near lost his cigarillo in the process. “ _You_? Why?”

Gabriel- Reaper- shrugged. He was trying to hold back his indifference but after all these years Jesse could still read him like an open book. There was pain in there, pain he was doing his damndest to hide. “Figured it would be a way to air out all of the bad before it could get worse.”

“Like kidnapping, assassination and _torture_ weren’t ‘worse’ already?”

“I did what I could with what I got,” Reaper- Gabriel- snapped. “I had my reasons to not leak it until I did.”

Jesse wrinkled his nose. “Jack.” 

“I did try to warn him,” Gabriel said quietly. “I tried to warn him about everything. But he wouldn’t _listen_. So I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I started an international incident. This is where Geneva comes in. I was supposed to go there to be reprimanded for allowing the files to get leaked. It was all but guaranteed that I would be stripped of my position when they found out just who leaked it. One last chance to get it through Morrison’s thick skull. And the world came crashing down around us.”

Jesse stubbed the butt of his smoke against the ravine wall. “So you didn’t set up the bomb that day?” 

“And blow myself up too? Sometimes I have insane plans, but dying had not been one of them. Then again, when you’re dead, you don’t get to make up your own story. Turns out mine was to be the one of the reviled villains. Golden Boy got all of the credit and the fancy funeral. I got jack _shit_. And before you ask- you can lay this-” Reaper gestured to himself with an air of disgust, “On Angela Zeigler’s doorstep. That suit of hers was still in its experimental phase when she switched over to human testing.”

This was just too much to handle. “So- why take out Overwatch agents? Everyone’s thinking yer nothing but a terrorist.”

Reaper laughed, bitter in the back of his throat. “I _am_ a terrorist. A terrorist who gets the job _done_. You don’t make an omelette without breaking a few heads McCree. Those people I’ve been hunting were attached to Talon in some way. Some unfortunate souls just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“And that’s another thing I cain’t understand- why work for Talon when they’re the ones who done blowed up Overwatch?” McCree was much less cautious about taking out a second cigarillo and lighting it.

“Pay like unto like. I taught you that, didn’t I? I’m just going to give them a taste of their own medicine.” 

The click of multiple gun safeties clicking off was... distressing to say the least. Jesse’s head snapped up as cursed quietly to himself. How in the hell did Talon manage to sneak up on both of them!?

Gabriel and Jesse moved against each other, back to back, falling into habit. Black shadows were moving everywhere above them, waiting like vultures for their chance to strike.

“Jesse,” Gabriel’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” he responded in a heartbeat, murmuring to keep it from being overheard.

“Then don’t panic.”

“Wha-” Suddenly, Reaper seized his wrist and before he could do much of anything, Jesse felt his body dissolve into nothing more than tiny little bits of himself. It was both terrifying and exhilarating to move through the air without a care in the world. A part of him wanted out of this immediately. A part of him wanted to stay like this forever.

Too soon though they’re reforming, about half a mile out from their resting spot. The sun was as hot as ever, but the weight in Jesse’s chest had been relieved somehow. As if hearing all of that was the best thing to happen to him.

“Come with me.” Gabriel held out a hand.

“Like-”

“You and me. Together again. Work as a team and take down each rogue element of Overwatch.”

Jesse thought back to the recall signal he got two months ago. He had been holding off on answering it, a vague feeling keeping him from hitting the ‘accept’ button that had popped up on the screen. Now he knew why. 

This was what he was meant to do.

“I’m in,” he said, nodding to Gabriel and smiling.

“Then you better keep up, ingrate.” The man in black turned and began to flee once more across the desert.

“Wha- hey! I ain’t an ingrate no more!” The gunslinger yelled, following like a good little shadow. If he noticed Peacekeeper sitting within its holster, his head upon his head, he made no comment about it.

“You are whatever I say you are!”


End file.
